


Po Town Beatdown

by digital_darling



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Beating, Explicit Language, One Shot, Other, i'm sorry everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 08:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8972653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digital_darling/pseuds/digital_darling
Summary: No one takes from Team Skull without a beating.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For /guz/, you dirty degenerates. A quick grunt bully session.

“So...whadda we have here?” Guzma’s voice was low as he crossed his arms, gaze piercing daggers into the grunt in front of him. It was a stormy night in Po Town yet the Shady House was full of life. All the grunts had gathered in the main room to watch the spectacle unfold.

The big boss stood at the start of the staircase, arms crossed. “Well? What ya got to say for yourself?” he growled.

The initiate before him was new, only a few days in. He had been...difficult to adjust to the Team Skull climate. He didn’t like authority, none of them did, but he went as far as to refuse  _ Guzma _ the respect he demanded. That was unforgivable. 

“Plums. Gimme the 4-1-1. Now.” Guzma’s glare unwavered as he called for the girl in the far corner, obviously uninterested in the current happenings. Not a single grunt dared move or squeak a single sound.

“Well,” she sighed, leaning up away from the wall, “this guy here decided to take some of the money from the haul for himself, as well as a Pokemon or two.” Plumeria couldn’t bring herself to look at the two in the center of the room, instead picking at the black polish on her fingernails. She was just as pissed at the grunt, and admitted he needed to be dealt with, but she also knew Guzma would take it farther than it needed. Regardless, she told her boss the truth. No point in lying just to save his ass.

Guzma gave a gruff chuckle, lowering his arms to put his hands on his hips in his usual slouch. A sly grin formed across his face. “You dumb little shit.” His voice was venom, smirk instantly vanishing. “Whats yer name, punk?”

“Jonah.” The grunt was deadpan, expression blank, chin up. He wasn’t scared of Guzma, and he didn’t hesitate to let him know with is attitude and body language. His Skull bandana hung loosely around his neck, necklace missing.

“Okay, Jonah,” Guzma spat, “Answer me this, you got a fuckin’ death wish?” His leaned forward further, still looming over the grunt. “‘Cause  _ we’re _ the ones who do the takin’, understand? You better be ready to pay up for this dumbass stunt you pulled today. Nobody takes from me without a beating.” Each word was enunciated with a building anger, eyebrows furrowed.

Jonah flared his nostrils, unimpressed with Guzma’s threats. “And who’s gonna stop me from walking outta here right now? I’m done with this Team Skull, y’all are crazy.” He crossed his arms.

Guzma motioned with a wave of his hand, and a couple grunts near the front door positioned themselves, blocking it. “Got a big mouth on ya, huh? Gonna have to bruise it up a little.”

That was enough to finally get a rise out of Jonah, who tensed up in response. His arms fell back to his sides, hands clenched into fists. “Ain’t nobody allowed to talk to me like that!” he barked back, leaning right into Guzma’s face.

“ _ Excuse _ me?” Guzma was furious now, eyes wide with fire. “You’re lookin’ danger in the fuckin’ eyes, kid! I’m gonna kick yo-”

 

**_WHACK!_ **

 

Jonah’s fist decked Guzma right in the left cheek, hard enough to make the boss’ head throw back. There was reddening immediately.

Shady House fell completely silent, save for a few gasps from the crowd of grunts. Everyone watched in suspense. This was not going to finish well for anyone.

Jonah lowered his fist, trying not to show anyone how much it hurt from the impact. 

Guzma froze to take a moment to process what just happened. He moved his head back and forth, neck popping loudly, before stabbing his eyes back at Jonah. “You’ve gone an’ done it now, kid. You’ll be lucky to leave this damn town alive.” His voice was a deep, ravenous growl.

Before Jonah could respond, Guzma lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar of his Skull tank. “You piece of shit! I’m gonna kill you!” He roared, swinging a heavy fist right into Jonah’s face. He swung again, and again. He was faster than Jonah was able to account for. The initiate fell to the floor.

Jonah gasped in pain. His ears were ringing and his cheek stung. He coughed up a small splatter of crimson onto the floor. The bravado he showed earlier was fading quickly.

He sat up just in time for Guzma to throw himself onto him. His giant frame fell onto Jonah, while one of his hands reached for his throat. All Guzma could see was seething rage. How dare this punk come into his town, his house, steal his crew’s haul, and disrespect him in front of them. His hand squeezed tightly around his neck, eliciting another gasp and a gurgle from Jonah. “This face you punched will be the last thing you  _ ever _ see!” 

Guzma shoved a knee into the boy’s groin, and a choked scream found its way through. Raising his free arm again, he threw a couple more punches. All Jonah could do now was lay there and take the beating, still clawing desperately at the hand strangling him. 

Guzma’s arm and gold watch was dotted with little droplets of blood. Maybe that was a tooth he saw fly away, hell if he cared. 

Jonah’s face was now bruising, bloody, and swollen, tears trickling from his fresh black eyes. He felt numb from the pain mixed with the lack of air within his lungs. His vision blurred, the room spinning.  _ Is...is this it _ ? he thought. The cries of pure anger from Guzma above him were only faint now. 

“Guz, stop this. You’ve done enough.” Plumeria yelled, now only a few feet away. Guzma couldn’t hear her, lost in is rampage. He went to raise a fist yet again, when Plumeria rushed to grab it midair. “I said  _ stop _ , Guzma!”

His arm tensed in hers, but it stopped its swing. He let it fall to his side. Guzma was breathing heavily, having worked himself up. Silence fell in the house once again.

“Fine. Only because ya wanted me to.” he muttered, a few moments later, with a frown. He let up his grip on Jonah’s neck.

Jonah gasped harshly, trying to get as much fresh, sweet air in his lungs as possible. His own arms reached to rub his neck where there were red marks from Guzma.

“Thank you…” Plumeria whispered. She walked away from the two on the floor, and the group as a whole, heading for her room. She had seen more than enough for the day.

After Guzma had caught his breath, he stood himself up. He glanced back down at the boy he had brutally beaten, and smiled. “Didn’t I fuckin’ warn ya?”

Jonah didn’t respond, unable to even maintain eye contact with Guzma anymore.

“Well...get the fuck outta here, kid. Scram. If I ever see ya again, you better believe Plums won’t be here to stop me.” He barked down at Jonah, who hesitantly nodded. 

The boy slowly stood up. He needed a moment to get his bearings again. Grabbing the bloodied bandana around his neck, he threw it onto the floor and made his way out of the house, never to be seen again.


End file.
